


The Mystery Machine

by Springmagpies



Series: Promptober 2019 [12]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bus Kids - Freeform, Bus era, Exploring a graveyard at night, F/M, Humor, Promptober 2019, earth vs space, spook - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-13 22:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springmagpies/pseuds/Springmagpies
Summary: Staking out a graveyard at night is no one's idea of the ideal mission, but it is a mission none the less. However, there's more than meets the eye when it comes to this particular assignment and what they find leaves them hopping to just make it out in tact.





	1. The Graveyard

**Author's Note:**

> We're getting a little spooky for day 12 of Promptober! This takes place somewhere between 1x05 (The Girl in the Flower Dress) and 1x06 (FZZT), but it won't necessarily stick completely to cannon. This is also being split into two chapters, with the next chapter covering another prompt so stay tuned for that! Thank you so much for reading and enjoy!

A graveyard. They were staking out a graveyard… at night. The idea had not been one that any of them had jumped at, even Ward who went “wherever the mission asked,” though his frustration once again stemmed more from wanting to operate alone. Still, they could all agree it was one of the creepier things they had been tasked with. It also required the four of them, Skye, Ward, and Fitz-Simmons to be stuck in a van together for an entire night as May and Coulson dealt with other tasks at hand, an idea that hadn’t panned out great the previous time they’d done it. The whole mission appeared to be asking for trouble, a fact Ward was keen to repeat.

“Sir,” Ward started for the umpteenth time that morning as the team packed the van for the mission, “I understand that this is what the mission calls for but you are sending me out into the field with individuals who are untrained and unqualified to--”

"Unqualified!” Fitz-Simmons called in chorus, both heads peeking out the open door of the vehicle. 

“We happen to be trained agents, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, we are just as much agents of S.H.I.E.L.D as you are,  _ Agent  _ Ward. And, as I recall, Simmons and I have three Ph.D.’s between the two of us--”

“Yes, so we are more than capable.”

Ward’s hands found his hips as he turned his frustrated glare between Fitz-Simmons’ indignant faces and Coulson’s stoic expression.

“I’m not saying that you two aren’t qualified agents. I’m saying that you aren’t prepared for the field.”

As Fitz and Simmons began to argue their points, their voices overlapping as they explained that they had been proving themselves sufficient so far, Coulson raised his hand in a silencing gesture. With a few last grumbles, the scientists grew quiet, ducking their heads back into the van before they began to whisper to one another once more.

“I trust my team, Agent Ward,” Coulson cut, his expression remaining unfazed but perhaps with a slightly tighter jaw, “I think you should as well.”

As Coulson walked up the spiral staircase to the main cabin, Ward huffed so violently his chin hit his chest. It was going to be a long night for Grant Ward.

* * *

When they finally arrived at their stakeout spot, the small offshoot team began to set up the equipment, Fitz-Simmons buzzing about within the small radius of the van as they put up and fiddled with their suspect-watching sensors.

“I still don’t understand why we’re just waiting for them to grab the 0-8-4,” Skye commented as she leaned against the black van, “Why not just run in and grab it. Or why we weren’t assigned to just run in and catch the person.”

“Because that’s not the mission,” Ward grunted, having had a sensor pole shoved into his arms by Simmons, with slightly more force than she would normally have done.

Skye rolled her eyes, her hands flying up in her vexation and slamming against the side of the van as they landed back down at her sides. “And we just aren’t going to question why we’re in a creepy graveyard at night trapped in the Mystery Machine.”

“Agents go where they’re asked and do what they’re told. We are all well aware that it’s not quite your style but you’re going to have to get used to it.” Ward pointed at the silver bracelet on Skye’s wrist, her punishment for her last infraction of the rules.

Before Skye could retort, Ward walked away with his boots crunching angrily in the dew-chilled grass and his eyes ever scanning for threats. Skye tried to lock down her emotions as she twisted the baby monitor bracelet, her chest tightening with loneliness as her team buzzed around her without really acknowledging her. Fitz had been shooting her shy glances every now and again, but the friendly spark in his eyes had dimmed slightly after the whole Miles ordeal. Simmons, ever on the same wavelength as Fitz, treated her much the same as the engineer. They, however, were at least kinder than Ward, who had taken to doubting every word out of her mouth and grumbled under his breath when he talked to her. It seemed like he would just decide to be pissed forever, never able to let go of his grudge.

Skye had made her bed and now she knew she had to lie in it, but she was determined to earn the trust of her team back, spooky graveyard or not. Molding her face into one of friendliness and determination, she picked up one of the sensors that Fitz-Simmons were plugging into the musty dirt and walked to the farthest reach of the van’s radius, shoving it into the spot that Fitz had marked off with a little orange flag.

“So what does this do, Fitz?” Skye asked as brightly as she could over her shoulder as the scientist approached, his cheeks pink with chill and exertion. She knew that the way back into Fitz-Simmons good graces was through science, and she was genuinely curious about what all the tech did. If she couldn’t know all the details of why they were there, she could at least try and understand what they were doing.

“These,” Fitz beamed, holding up the silver rod, “are state of the art, one of a kind infrared sensors we like to call “The Consulting Detectives.” Simmons and I designed them to pick up minute facial expressions in the dark from long distances. But--and this is their genius--they also are able to scan other things like walking gait, shoe imprints, height, etc. That way there is little chance of the evidence being covered up.”

“But, why not just catch the person?” Skye asked once more as she drove the sensor into the ground. 

“Because that’s not always the mission,” Simmons added, appearing at Fitz’s shoulder with the glowing tablet, “Sometimes it’s an agent’s job to simply observe, as we are doing tonight!”

“Exactly. And once we get these miniaturized we’re going to add them to the Dwarves.”

“Which will help improve the range of capabilities!”

The two scientists grinned at Skye, forgetting that they were still supposed to be wary of her, before looking at one another beaming.

“Cool,” Skye replied, her eyebrows raised to her hairline as she nodded at them. It was like the two were physically linked and she highly doubted there weren’t any romantic feelings between the scientists, not with the way they smiled at each other. Feeling suddenly like a third wheel, she turned back towards the van, shivering as the night air took a rapid downturn from chilly to cold. Looking up into the dark star-spotted ceiling above her, Sky noticed the glowing round orb of the moon shining above them, making its appearance from behind a cloud and drowning them in its silver glow.

“Full moon. You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” she muttered into the dark, the words breaking slightly as she tripped on a stray stone. It was a good thing Fitz brought snacks because Skye needed some sort of comfort from the spine-chilling scenario that they had been shoved into. 

Once the sensors were set and the team was once again piled into the van, the only thing left to do was sit and wait. They were less than half an hour into the mission when Fitz’s stomach rumbled and snacks were opened, the team digging into the sweets he had brought as well as the healthier options that were provided by Simmons, though it was mainly Simmons who ate them. To everyone’s surprise, Ward even partook in a pack of M&M’s.

“What?” he asked as he tore open the paper packet.

Skye grinned as she put a popcorn puff into her mouth, “Nothing. We just didn’t know the tin man was fueled by anything other than protein shakes and lean-cut chicken.”

Ward’s eyes narrowed as Fitz and Simmons chuckled, but his face didn’t appear angry, landing more in the “normal reaction to being teased” territory. 

“I enjoy a good M&M, okay.” He looked around at the vehicle’s occupants, who all stared back with surprised looks on their faces, Fitz-Simmons even sharing smiley glances. Skye held up her hands while a little smirk tugged up the corners of her lips before popping another popcorn puff into her mouth.

It was surprising how much they all actually got along as the cramped van gave them little room to escape one another. They weren’t all buddy-buddy but they weren’t ripping each other’s heads off, which was good. Every fifteen minutes or so they would check the sensors for signs of life, Fitz-Simmons tapping at their tablets while Ward scanned out the front window.

They were encroaching on three in the morning when Skye noticed a roll of fog moving in, steady and billowing like there was about to be a stage production of Hamlet performed in the quiet graveyard.

“Uh, guys, is that normal?” Skye asked, turning from the passenger seat to face into the back of the van. Fitz was half asleep on Simmon’s shoulder while the biologist quietly tapped in the bluish glow of the tablet. As she looked up, her sudden movement caused him to jerk awake, his eyes bleary as he tried to adjust himself back into his surroundings.

“Is what normal?” Ward asked, putting down the paper he was filling out, some sort of report or other. 

“That fog moving towards us?”

Ward jumped up from his spot and walked to hop in the front seat, his back bent to fit the van’s short roof like he was a kid too big to be in a play-place.

“It just looks like fog,” he remarked as he squinted out the condensation-covered front window. 

Fitz and Simmons walked up to the front as well, their heads together as they fit them into the spot between the front seats. “I think Ward is right. It’s just the air being cooled by the ground--”

“It really is an interesting process--”

“Guys!” Skye snapped, cutting across Fitz-Simmons as her finger shot forward, focusing on a spectral figure in the distance. 

At the sight of the shadowy, fog-masked phantom, Fitz and Simmons immediately fell backward further into the van, Simmons more gracefully reaching for the tablet while Fitz tripped over his own trainers.

“That’s odd,” Simmons faltered, her eyes roaming over the scans.

Fitz, finally righting himself, looked over her shoulder, his eyes following in the same path as hers as his mouth fell open to form a little “o.”

“Uh, fill us in please,” Ward called before Skye screamed, the figure disappearing through the solid granite door of one of the mausoleums. The van shook as everyone simultaneously jumped at the sound, sending snacks and spare equipment parts clattering. 

“What the hell was that! Did none of you see that?” Sky shrieked, her eyes mimicking the full moon. “There was a freaking ghost!” A deep chill had settled within the van, so strangely cold that they could all feel it through their S.H.I.E.L.D grade jackets. 

Fitz scoffed, though his eyebrows were knit rather close together. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. There is a reasonable, scientific expla--”

“Fitz, look at this,” Simmons said, tapping his chest to get his attention. The dark blue-grey screen was devoid of anything, the world a cold, colorless reality of rolling hills and gravestones.

“What does it say,” Ward barked, jumping into the back himself as Skye continued to look at the outside world around them.

“It says we're surrounded by nothing,” Fitz replied but his face was laced with confusion. “Visually, because of the fog, we can’t see anything and we aren’t picking up any heat signatures on the scanners. Yet the scanner is picking up footprints. We should be able to pick up a heat difference, even in the fog. So these readings can’t be--” 

Skye flipped around from the front. “It’s because we’re  _ surrounded _ by  _ ghosts _ ,” she articulated before swinging her legs to jump into the back, sitting on the center console.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Fitz-Simmons shot back in unison.

“I just saw a dude walk through a solid wall, so I think he and his lack of bones beg to differ!”

“Skye, you don’t know what you saw,” Simmons commented as Fitz took the tablet from her grasp, “Chances are it’s just an elaborate scheme to get the 0-8-4 without detection.”

“Well, we should at least go out and check!” Skye retorted, her voice clenching with exasperation.

“Our mission was to stay in the van,” Ward shot back. His eyes were alight in the darkness but were quickly drawn away at the sound of humming.

“What the bloody hell is that?” Fitz muttered, his shoulder drawing up and in, only dropping down to place his hand on Simmons’, her hand having flown up to grab onto his jacket sleeve in fright.

The van went quiet as they listened to the voice of a woman, strangely sweet as it hovered within the fog. It was as if it had gotten caught in every small particle of water in the air. 

Skye’s eyes drifted out of focus as she listened to the voice, the woman’s haunting melody transforming in her ears. “She’s singing.”

“Singing?” Fitz muttered, his wide eyes looking incredulously to Simmons. 

It was an eerily soft rendition of “Daisy Bell” and for some reason Skye felt her feet moving of their own accord, her hand reaching for the door handle of the van. Another jacket-cutting chill hovered into the van as the door slid open with a mechanical whir-click. 

“Skye, what in the hell do you think you’re doing!” Ward shouted, grabbing onto the hacker’s shoulder as she sat on the floor of the van, her legs swinging out to float off the side.

“She needs help.” Skye’s mouth moved, the words spilling out like liquid nitrogen, but she didn’t remember thinking them up.

Fitz and Simmons exchanged frightened glances as Skye’s body seemed to almost float out of the car, her feet unbelievably light as they hit the ground. Ward’s boots, on the other hand, hit the ground hard as he jumped out after her, the dread drenched mist clouding his vision as Skye moved deeper into the fog.

“Fitz-Simmons!” Ward tossed over his shoulder, “Figure out a way to cut through the fog and get me some visuals. Try and figure out what the hell is happening! I’m going after Skye.”

He slid the black door shut with all his strength, closing it with a heavy thud before chasing Skye out into the graveyard. As Ward disappeared into the dark vapor, the two scientists scrambled within the van, jumping over and around one another, their voices etching out ideas as if the air was a whiteboard. 

As Fitz tapped on the tablet looking for data on the lack of heat signatures, his fingers flying across the screen as he tumbled, hunched over, within the vehicle, Simmons began analyzing the extra readings coming off the sensors. Suddenly, her eyes on the screen, she halted, causing Fitz to nearly run directly into her.

“Simmons? What’s the matter?”

“The fog,” she whispered, her eyes looking fearfully into Fitz’s.

“What about the fog?”

She shook her head, her next words slow and terrified. “It’s not fog.” 

Fitz gulped. “Well, then what is it?”

“I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s not of this world.”

“Simmons… what are you saying?”

“I don’t think we’re looking for an 0-8-4, Fitz. I think we’re in the 0-8-4.”


	2. Answers in the Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Ward goes looking within the fog for Skye, the young hacker goes searching for something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 23 (Full Moon) for Promptober marks the end for this fic! Hope you enjoy!

Trying his best to avoid any of the upright gravestones, Ward wound his way further into the fog, whisper-shouting for Skye at random intervals. As he swerved and stumbled over uneven dirt, the haunting song of the woman rang sharply in his ears, sounding almost like a shriek the louder he got until he had to walk with his hands over his ears. Why in the hell would Skye want to move towards such a terrifying song?

His well-trained heart stayed steady but he had to fight quite hard to keep it that way, his brain divided between forcing his lungs to take regular paced breaths and keeping his feet moving deeper into the graveyard despite the voice that even his hands couldn’t block out.

_ Daisy, Daisy, give me your heart to do. I’m half crazy, hopeful in love with you. _

The lyrics seared like fresh scratches into Grant’s mind and he had to blink multiple times to clear the water that had gathered at the rims of his eyes from the fog flooding into them. He had lost track of Skye, unable to see through the dense mist, but he just kept himself going in the hopes that following the horrific voice would lead him to her. After feeling like he had walked much farther a distance than had separated him from Skye, Grant ran straight into the suddenly appearing solid granite door of the mausoleum, groaning in pain as a bruise began to thump on his forehead.

“Great,” he fumed, rubbing the injury as he looked up at the building’s pediment. Etched into the stone were Chinese characters, the carvings covered and filled with aging moss so that Grant had to squint to read it.

他們將在來世相遇

“Dammit, where’s May when you need her.”

Unable to decipher the characters, the voice piercing his eardrums, and still rather pissed off about the bruise he felt forming right above his eye, Grant shoved his entire weight against the mausoleum door. Unsurprisingly, the thick wall of rock didn’t budge and Grant backed away from it, watching in confusion as the fog swooped to fill in the narrow gap he had given it. He found the voice was slowly growing distant, becoming a far off wailing as he felt himself drift into the haze that surrounded him. 

“Wa--d--ca--ear--us?” 

Jemma’s crisp accent was broken up by the crinkling of the comms but it was just enough to make Ward feel less like he was lost at sea.

“Simmons? You’re breaking up but I can hear you.”

Suddenly Fitz appeared on the channel as well. “Ward, you’ve got t--back--an.”

“What?

“Ge--ack! The fog is the 0-8-4!”

Fitz and Simmons’ voices meshed as in sync as ever in his ear and, without the voice filling up most of his headspace, their fearful call struck straight at his purposefully beating heart. Alien fog. Of course, it was alien fog. 

“I’ve got to get Skye! She’s still out here!” Ward shouted back into his earpiece, the majority of the sound feeling like it was tumbling into the void. Despite the blackness of night that he expected to be engulfed in, the world was silver with moonlight and the droplets of water glistened slightly like jewels in the air. Yep, definitely alien fog.

There was a response made like crunched up newspaper and Ward cursed into the abyss once more. He was on his own for this. Reaching his hand out in front of him, he slowly moved forward back to where he remembered the door had last been. To his great relief, his palm lay flat onto the plane of granite and his brain gratefully pushed away the worry that he was also dealing with a large teleporting mausoleum.

“Skye! Skye answer me!” he bellowed into the fog-filled air, hoping his voice could somehow carry to wherever she was and also break through her trance. However, he wasn’t really betting on it.

Just as he felt like he was about to break his shoulder on the large stone door, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He could have sworn it was a person, but just as he was about to investigate a clearing appeared in the dense fog around him, letting a beam of pure white moonlight fall straight down upon the building.

Ward straightened away from the door and stared up into the silvery spotlight. “What the hell?”

Behind him there was the sound of footsteps crunching on the slowly freezing grass and the song came back to become a loud shriek once more. Doubling over from the pain pounding in his head, Ward reached instinctively to cover his ears but instead managed to press his palm on his rapidly forming bruise. Stumbling in the shock, he sent his hands out forward to brace himself for a fall and he again found the granite door, becoming very much over its rocky solidity. The crunching figure grew closer and the voice louder and Ward couldn’t help his heart rate that pumped so forcefully it seemed to shake his ribcage. Just managing to open his eyes, he saw the fog around him drip with drops of water like silver stars, the moonlight broken into thousands of pieces of glittering glass.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The voice replaced the crunching and Ward only just took in a man made of mist that matched the fog before the world became a moonless expanse of sleep.

* * *

_ Daisy, Daisy, give me your heart to do. I’m half crazy, hopeful in love with you. _

The closer Skye got to the moss covered mausoleum the sweeter the voice became, the melody turning soothing like a lullaby. Under the mollifying tone of the voice, Skye could feel a strange anxiety combatting with the singer. It was if the woman was attempting to provide comfort amidst chaos, the notes equivalent to a hush. The woman needed help.

When she reached the carved doors of the building, she gently placed her hand on the stone, her fingertips brushing over the bits of the stone that remained unsmoothed by nature, coarse against her freezing digits.

Symbols appeared where her fingerprints hovered, glowing hot like coals and sending a zip up Skye’s spine. It was as if the door was vibrating from her touch, the molecules in the rock separating just enough to allow her to bleed through and she walked through the door the same as one walked under a waterfall. 

_ It won’t be a stylish marriage. I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet, upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.  _

The room was empty aside from a round pedestal standing in the center, the moon falling through a skylight to surround it in a halo of silver. Skye felt magnetically pulled further into the room, the song swirling around in her skull and her feet moving like she was on a conveyor belt.

“Skye! Skye answer me!” 

Somewhere amidst the song, she thought she heard Ward shout for her and it was enough to make her stop where she was and dig her heels into the stone flooring. She blinked multiple times and stared up at the circle of fog-flooded light in the ceiling before catching movement in her peripheral. 

“Hello?” she croaked, her voice clawing up her throat as it waded against the voice in her head. “Who’s there?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

The voice was like wood on fire, crackling and snapping with a raspy undertone of smoke inhalation. 

Swallowing the music that was beginning to feel jammed down her esophagus, Skye managed to reply. “Yeah man, I agree. But that woman… she needs help.”

There was a banging on the other side of the door that Skye hadn’t been able to hear before and as she processed who could possibly be making the noise, light suddenly filled the chamber as a beam of moonlight fell into the room. It was like an alien abduction with the moonlight so much brighter than it should have been, leading Skye to turn her head to the side with a grimace. 

There was a whooshing sound within the building and as it dissipated Skye suddenly felt very alone. The man made of smoke had disappeared while the voice had magnified to the strength of a strangely sweet blow horn. With the overwhelming amount of information trying to force connections between her neurons, Skye suddenly began seeing stars, the glittering stone around her becoming as expansive as space.

_ Daisy, daisy, give me your heart to do. I’m half crazy, hopeful in love with you. _

There was another whisper-crackle like smoldering vapor and Skye called to the phantom she could sense was there. “What’s happening?”

“You answered the call,” the figure replied, his words now heard clearly as the woman’s song turned soft before completely fading with the beam of moonlight.

Skye didn’t know when she had started to cry but the stars in her vision turned to watery tears like she had just yawned and she blinked furiously to clear them.

“The diviner that was supposed to be here tonight was moved due to a rumored S.H.I.E.L.D. presence. It was simply a siren call.”

“What the hell is happening…”

The raspy voice appeared through the darkness, the man appearing to be made of pure shadow. “You’re in a terrigenesis chamber.”

“Yeah… don’t know what that is.” Skye’s heart was beating and so her mouth spat out any bit of comedy it could in order to release the energy.

“No, the agent currently laying outside amongst the gravestones proves you weren’t meant to be here yet.”

Her throat constricted. “Wait, is he--”

“He’s fine. He just isn't divine.”

“Well, he can be kind of a hard ass so divine really would be a stretch--”

The man made an annoyed groan and Skye quickly shut her mouth. Humor wasn’t going to get her out of this mausoleum.

“He isn’t worthy of the change. You, however, are. Just not yet.”

“What change? Like a werewolf kind of change or like moving to a new apartment kind of change, okay humor still not helping.”

“Humans have often confused terrigenesis with some mythical curse like lycanthropy,” the figure continued, his voice traveling around the room and giving Skye the impression he was pacing, “It is, however, as scientific as anything. Like nature, like science, it has an order to it--”

“Wow, if this wasn’t freaking terrifying, Fitz-Simmons would love you.”

“Everything works in tandem. This room that you are in is made to harbor the terrigenesis crystals, a room made for those to transform. The mist that brought you here is similar to the casing surrounding the crystals, though with a much less lethal effect. It wards away those who are unworthy and calls those who are with its song. Everything has its place.”

Skye didn’t know what a diviner was or crystals nor was she truly processing the fact that she was talking to a man made of smoke who was telling her she had been lured to her destiny by some sort of siren fog. Yet, she couldn’t deny the strange pull the place had on her, like it was filling some sort of gap.

“And every place has its time. And now is not yours.”

The made made of smoke looked up, or Skye guessed he did as it was kind of hard to make out his movements. The sky peeking through the hole in the roof was becoming an iron grey-blue awaiting the reds and golds of sunrise.

“My time? To what, change?”

“To  _ become. _ ”

Warm light began to pour into the room and Skye backed away as the air whooshed and crackled once more with the figure’s disappearance. 

“What the hell was that?”

* * *

With the sun up and the fog gone, Fitz and Simmons raced out of the van towards the mausoleum, both having to catch the other when they unexpectedly hit a dip in the dirt or, in Fitz’s case, nearly tripped over a large tree root. 

“Ward!”

“Ward, are you alright?”

Ward was lying in the dew covered grass in front of the mausoleum’s large door, a nasty purple bruise dusting the skin above his eye. Groggily, he made to sit up, Jemma quickly hovering next to him as she assessed his condition.

“What happened? Wait, what time is it? Where’s Skye?” His questions came in rapidfire succession and Simmons had to place force on his shoulders to keep him sitting.

“Right here.” Skye had rushed over to Ward, making it right after Fitz and Simmons. None of them had seen her fade right through the solid stone or they probably would have freaked. 

“Skye! Are you alright?” 

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

All three of her teammates’ voices were etched deeply with concern and Skye twisted her baby monitor bracelet, watching it go round and round her wrist so as to avoid meeting their eyes. Biting her lip, she took a deep breath and looked at them, finding the same concern etched in their eyes as well. They truly cared about her.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine. But some really strange shit just happened.”

* * *

“Well, that’s a lot.”

Skye was sitting across Coulson’s desk, taking a deep sigh and swallowing thickly, her mouth feeling like it was filled with mud after having talked for so long, tasting like mud as well. 

“Yep.”

“Well,” Coulson stated as he stood up from his desk, buttoning his jacket as he did, “Whatever it all means, we’ll figure it out. Fitz and Simmons are still running tests on that fog and so I’m sure they’ll come up with some sort of explanation.”

Skye stood to follow him out into the main cabin, rushing slightly so as to catch up. “And the writing above the door?”

“May translated it, said it means  _ they will meet in the afterlife _ .”

“What do you think that means.”

“No clue, but I’m sure we will know soon enough. By what that man said to you, I don’t think that this is just going to go away.”

“So what do we do now AC?”

Coulson stopped, bringing Skye to a halt as well. “We go to a campsite in Pennsylvania.”

“Why?”

“Floating body.”

Giving the young hacker a sideways look and a raise of eyebrows, Coulson walked on to where he was meeting his scientists to brief them on the mission.

Skye took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders before she followed Coulson in a somewhat excited march. “Creepy graveyard, alien fog, full moon, and now a floating body. Jinkies.”


End file.
